


Without Her

by Tafka



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 05:36:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16089131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tafka/pseuds/Tafka
Summary: After Amell is swept off to join the Wardens, a Surana who was left behind has to face suspicion, harrowing, and the worst day of both of their lives.





	Without Her

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pikestaff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikestaff/gifts).



Surana didn’t know the moment that Amell left her life, only that it was some time in the afternoon, while she studied arcane mastery. She looked up from her book to see Senior Enchanter Leorah, flanked by a fully armored Templar. “Come with me please,” the Senior Enchanter said, without prelude.

With their helmet on, Surana couldn’t tell who the Templar was. This was bothersome, as it was often prudent to act in different ways around different Templars. They always expected something of you, and it was never the same for two of them. It was someone tall, not one of the women, and not five others that she could exclude by virtue of knowing how they walked. The process of elimination took the place of her worry over why the Senior Enchanter wanted to speak to her. 

When they arrived in Leorah’s study, she took the offered seat quietly and primly, folding her hands on her lap in the way that she had seen Amell do a thousand times. Leorah wouldn’t notice either way, but it was best to behave as much like a shem as possible in front of the unknown Templar. 

“Do you know why you are here?”

“Because you asked me” was a smart-mouthed answer, so Surana merely replied, “No.”

Leorah folded her hands on her desk, “Has anyone come to you to ask a favor recently?”

“No.” Many people had asked her favors, they were always asking things of her. Nothing to be grilled about in front of a Templar for, though.

“Has anyone spoken to you about… forbidden magics?”

She meant blood magic, obviously. “No.” This was true, no one had spoken about blood magic to her since the last time Enchanter Tobias went on a rant instead of teaching them about spell warding.

Leorah cut her eyes quickly to the Templar standing at the door, and then back to Surana. She was nervous, Surana realized, more nervous than was her usual disposition. The same nervousness began to form at the back of Surana’s mind, but she shoved it back before it could fully form. She needed to keep her calm, or be seen as hiding something.

“Have you had any unusual interactions with Apprentice Jowan recently? Anything… untoward?”

Jowan had been acting strangely lately, Surana noticed. Secretive, nervous. She had surmised he was having an illicit assignation, but this line of questioning seemed much more serious. She shook her head, “No.”  
“And what about Amell? Has she mentioned any plans to you?”

Amell? Surana’s heart lurched sideways in her chest. Something had happened to Amell. She had gotten into some sort of trouble that even a spotless record and a silver tongue could not get her out of. Something involving Jowan. Something involving forbidden magics. Her tongue felt heavy. She struggled to control her breathing, to not appear panicked like she was inside, but her worry for Amell threatened to outstrip her worry for herself.

“No,” she choked out.

Leorah watched her for a long moment before speaking again. “Regardless, there has been a change in schedule. You will follow Ser Gerald now, the First Enchanter is waiting for you.”

So it was Ser Gerald at the door, then. It figured. He was new, and Surana hadn’t gotten a hold on what he was like quite yet. Quiet, apparently. She followed him silently from the room and filed that information away for the future. Keeping her mental notes on the tower’s residents up to date kept her from being overly worried about why she was meeting with the First Enchanter. A worried apprentice was a suspicious apprentice, and Surana always managed to avoid suspicion.

When they reached the heavy doors of the tower’s topmost chamber, Surana had almost managed to slow her heart rate and banish thoughts of what had become of Amell to the back of her mind. But only almost.

* * *

Surana opened her eyes to the warm light of morning shining through the cloth walls of her aravel. She stretched out on her pallet, feeling the pleasant lethargy of sleep leave her body as she became more fully awake. Still, she lingered in bed, breathing in the scent of the forest air, and listening to the soft sounds of her clansmen getting ready for the day. She could even hear the halla nickering softly in their pen. Everything was so peaceful and familiar, she wanted to go back to sleep, but she knew the Keeper would be expecting her for lessons soon, and she didn’t want to be a disappointment. 

She was just about to get up when the tapestry that served as a door was lifted aside and a figure came in.

“Slept in, did we, love?” asked Amell, smiling fondly at her. She was carrying a platter of bread and preserves in one hand, and a mug of something hot and steaming in the other.

Tea, Surana knew, at once, with honey. Just what she had for breakfast every day. 

She reached out and took the mug, their fingers brushing together. The mug was almost as warm as Amell’s touch. She held it, clasped in both hands, and let contentment seep through her.

She was home, with her clan, and her love was there with her. It was everything she could ever want, everything her heart desired.

“What are we doing here?” Surana’s words came out harsher than she intended, but Amell would never begrudge her an occasional harshness.

“Don’t you remember?” Amell cocked her head to one side, her auburn curls falling loose over her shoulders. “We escaped the tower together, just like we always planned. We ran away into the woods and we found your clan, they took us in.” She set the platter down beside them and came to sit by Surana’s side. “They were _so_ happy to have you back.”

Amell’s warmth radiated off of her like it did from the mug of tea. Surana gazed into it’s amber depths, wanting to lose herself in them. “They would be,” she murmured. She tried to enjoy the moment for what it was, but she was already withdrawing into her rational self. Amell, the tea, her clan outside; it was all so perfect. It was all much too perfect.

She put the tea down. “You must have breakfast--” Amell began, but Surana cut her off with a look.

“No,” she said.

“Not hungry?” Amell pouted. It was a very adorable expression, big halla eyes meant to persuade.

“No,” she repeated.

“Hungry for something else?” She quirked her eyebrow and adopted what was meant to be a seductive pose. On Amell it looked bizarre, and out of place. It was certainly not an attitude Surana had seen her in before. When Amell meant to be seductive she was sincere, forthright, never coy.

“No, because you are not my Amell.”

“Not myself? Don’t be ridiculous, love.”

Surana shook her head, “You’re not. And this is not real food. And this,” she waved her hand around to indicate the aravel, “is not my home.”

“But it is,” insisted Amell, “I told you, we ran away from the tower and your people--”

“My people would not suffer a shem to live among them.”

“Of course they would,” not-Amell’s tone was placating, simpering and sweet, “They love you and just want you to be happy with the woman you love.”

“You are NOT the woman I love!” cried Surana, standing abruptly. “Stop this charade, I won’t bear you wearing her face anymore!”

With a horrible twisting, the desire demon complied, resolving into its own form. “Oh, you’re a clever one, aren’t you.” it purred. 

Surana clenched her fist, an arcane bolt growing within it, “I’ve been told that i’m very observant.”

* * *

If the day Amell left the tower was the worst of Surana’s life so far, the day she came back eclipsed it a thousand fold. But in the end, she survived, alive if not entirely intact. She lay on a pallet in the makeshift infirmary, and attempted to rest. She must have drifted off, because she was startled awake by Amell’s soft voice close by.

“Oh! I didn’t want to wake you, I was just… nevermind.” Amell seemed flustered, tired, but no longer covered in abomination blood. That was an improvement.

“You came back,” Surana said, stating the obvious.

“Yes, of course!”

“And you promise you’re not a desire demon?”

Amell seemed unphased by the seeming non sequitur. “No, I’m not. Surana, I can’t stay long. I just wanted to see you again, to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m not,” she whispered. Amell was perhaps the only person she could admit a weakness like that to. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad too.” Amell looked around quickly, then swept down for a quick, chaste kiss. Her lips tingled after the touch. “I have to go, but I’ll be back. After the Blight is over, I promise I’ll come back for you.”

It didn’t feel like an empty promise, even though the idea was as far fetched as the two of them running off to join the Dalish. But if anyone could keep a promise like that, it was Amell. “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Please do.” Amell’s eyes crinkled with a suppressed laugh

And then, again, she was gone, though Surana knew it this time, and knew that she would surely return again.


End file.
